


A cure I know that soothes the soul

by ladyofrosefire, sparxwrites



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Don't copy to another site, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, PWP, Polynein (Critical Role), Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fisting, Vaginal Sex, assorted background parings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22038259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofrosefire/pseuds/ladyofrosefire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: Jester arranges things, which means getting everyone baths and finding herself something pretty to wear and rearranging the furniture in the inn room. The bed goes in the middle of the floor, and most of the blankets end up on a chair in the corner until Jester realizes someone might want to sit there and tosses them onto the dressing table instead. Then she dries her hair, and dresses in rosy lace and satin, and hops up and down a few times until the nervous flutter in her stomach quiets enough for her to consider how best to arrange herself on the bed.In which Jester asks for a gift from the Mighty Nein, and they indulge her with great enthusiasm.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Jester Lavorre, Fjord/Jester Lavorre, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast, Jester Lavorre/Everyone, Jester Lavorre/Nott, Jester Lavorre/Yasha
Comments: 82
Kudos: 417





	A cure I know that soothes the soul

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Moment's Silence" by Hozier.
> 
> Thank you to mischief7manager for your input in the initial stages of writing this.

Jester arranges things, which means getting everyone baths and finding herself something pretty to wear and rearranging the furniture in the inn room. The bed goes in the middle of the floor, and most of the blankets end up on a chair in the corner until Jester realizes someone might want to _sit there_ and tosses them onto the dressing table instead. Then she dries her hair, and dresses in rosy lace and satin, and hops up and down a few times until the nervous flutter in her stomach quiets enough for her to consider how best to arrange herself on the bed. 

At the sound of a knock on the door, she scrambles into position, her legs closed, tail curled around them alluringly, one arm folded behind her head. The flock of butterflies in her stomach turns a loop-the-loop. 

Caduceus comes through the door first, and, for a moment, she thinks her careful work is lost on him. Maybe the pose goes over his head, but his gaze catches on her face and makes her shiver all over. The fluttering eases. 

He smiles, his ears pricking up. “You look nice, Jester. Very pretty.” He looks back over his shoulder. “She’s all set.”

 _Then_ Jester gets the response she wanted—five more pairs of eyes going wide and dark, cheeks flushing. Beau swallows visibly. She starts forward only to knock shoulders with Fjord as he does the same. For a moment, they just stare at each other. 

Then Beau raises her fist. “Boulder, parchment, shears?” 

Deliberately, Jester spreads her legs. The hem of her nightgown slips up her thighs. “Or, you could _both_ touch me.” 

“That works,” Fjord answers immediately, hand dropping back to his side.

Beau still reaches her first, climbing onto the bed with her and drawing her into a kiss, cupping her face with both hands. Jester’s own hands fall to Beau’s waist, pulling her close. They press together, hands wandering for a few long moments. Jester’s nightgown ends up bunched around her hips, and Beau’s shirt goes loose, her sash falling to the floor. When they break apart, both of them are gasping, and Jester’s skin tingles. The butterflies have ceased their loop-the-loops, or at least slowed them. 

Fjord leans in a moment later, kissing Jester carefully. His fingers curl in her hair. She sucks at his lower lip and slips her tongue into his mouth to feel him groan.

Then Beau grabs onto her calves, and Jester lets herself be tugged flat on the bed with a shriek of laughter. The next time Fjord kisses her, it’s upside-down and smiling as Beau kisses her way up one of her legs. It tickles, and it makes her gasp against Fjord’s lips. 

Jester lingers another moment before stretching out and casting meaningful stares at each of them in turn. “You should get naked,” she informs them, and, a moment later, Nott yells as Beau’s top hits her in the face.

“Sorry!” Beau calls unconvincingly, tugging her pants down with both hands. 

Grinning, Jester sits up to help her. She has Fjord against her back a moment later, his chest warm and still more solid than she’s used to. His hands slide up her sides, carrying her nightgown with them before palming over the rounds of her thighs and the curve of her stomach. 

She reaches back to sling an arm around his neck, just like on the cover of one of her novels, grinning even as she croons, “Oh, _Fjord_ …”

Caleb and Beau smother laughs at the same time, Beau burying her face against Jester’s thigh. Then Fjord nips at her neck, and Beau hooks her fingers under the waist of Jester’s panties, and she has to stop and gasp and hold onto both of them. 

Beau looks up, grinning hungrily. “Hey— I wanna eat you out. That okay?”

“ _Uh-huh_.” Jester nods almost frantically. Then she leans against Fjord’s chest and tips her head back to look up at him. “You should touch me, too.”

“Should I?” He grins and then goes slack-jawed as Jester arches on his lap at the first drag of Beau’s tongue. “Gods, Jester…” He fumbles open the ribbon closing her nightgown and slips a hand under it to palm one of her breasts, callused palm scraping her nipple. 

Beau builds from slow, teasing licks to purposeful circles around Jester’s clit. Jester moans and spreads her thighs wider. When she looks down, she finds Beau with her head down, her legs folded up under her. The jade of her tattoo glimmers with each flex and shift of the muscles in her back. With fumbling hands, Jester pulls her nightgown up for a better view. Beau doesn’t pause. She’s back to long licks, working lazily over Jester’s labia and then thrusting _into_ her, tongue curling and _tap-tap-tap-_ ing until Jester arches and whines and her thighs tremble. She tangles her fingers in the long part of Beau’s undercut, and Beau _groans_ at the pull. 

The vibrations of it race through Jester’s cunt. “Oh—” she gasps and, “ _Oh…_ ” as Beau pulls back to suck on her clit. Her hips hitch and rise and her thighs tense, and then Beau pulls away, peppering kisses over Jester’s thighs. “Beau…”

“Let me,” Fjord asks, and Beau sits up. 

They shuffle and switch places. Jester looks past them to the rest of the group. Yasha pauses half-way through pulling off her boots to give a small smile. Her gaze shifts between Jester and Beau, eyes dark, mouth half parted. Beau looks over, too, and bites her lip.

“Do you wanna…?” Jester starts with another glance in Yasha’s direction.

“Later.” Beau leans down to kiss her, and Jester catches her own taste on Beau’s tongue.

Then Fjord’s tongue is on her, the nubs of his tusks digging into her folds, and she _whines_. He hooks her legs over his shoulders and presses closer, his stubble dragging against the insides of her thighs. He can’t move much, but he can fuck her with his tongue and suck on her clit, and that’s all he really needs. 

Jester whines and gasps, digging her heels into his back as she arches up against his mouth. Beau’s mouth finds one nipple and bites at it, soothes it with her tongue, even as her hand massages Jester’s other breast. Jester twists between them, her cries rising in pitch. Her thighs clamp around Fjord’s head. With both hands, she reaches out, tangling one in Beau’s topknot and the other in the longest part of Fjord’s hair. 

“ _Oh my God—_ ” she gasps, and, “Oh fuck, _oh fuck_ —” and she still thinks it would be better if she could maybe come up with something like in one of her books. But Fjord has two fingers in her, now, and she’s so wet she can hear every time he thrusts them in her, and his mouth is on her clit. And then Beau bites her nipple _again_ , and Jester comes with a wordless wail, grinding against Fjord’s mouth. 

“Hey!” Beau protests, “I was gonna finish her off.”

“You can still do that,” Fjord replies smugly. Jester cracks an eye open to find him wiping his shiny mouth and grinning. “Right, Jester?”

She catches Fjord’s hand and kisses it without looking away from Beau. “Uh-huh. _Totally_. I wanna do you, too. And you can do me at the same time?” 

“That… doesn’t work as well in real life…” Yasha comments, though there’s a tightness to her voice like she wants to be wrong. 

Beau is already moving, legs to either side of Jester’s head. “Fuck it— Let’s try.” She bends forward, hooking her arms under Jester’s thighs and starting a line of kisses at her knee. 

Jester copies Beau, kissing and biting, raising bruises in her wake. Beau’s thighs are ropey, tensed as she holds herself up. Jester raises her head, shoves a pillow under it, and tugs Beau closer, the smell and the wet of her overwhelming. She glistens with it, and Jester takes a moment to look, whining softly as a fresh wave of heat goes through her. Beau sucks a mark into the crease of Jester’s thigh. 

There’s a rustle of cloth. Raising her head, Jester catches sight of Fjord stepping out of his pants, Caduceus’ hands stroking his sides, his scarred back. Fjord’s head meets Caduceus’ shoulder as he groans. Nott has her hands tight in Caleb’s hair, his fingers between her thighs. She keeps making soft, mewling sounds, almost purring with each stroke, even as she seems tense as a bowstring. That feels good, too, seeing them together, seeing them loved. 

But Beau is _waiting,_ and she needs to focus. Jester leans up and drags her tongue all the way— well, _down_ to Beau’s clit. She’s done this a few times, but not upside-down, and it takes her a moment to flip everything in her head. Even then, it’s still clumsy. She does her best, licking back and forth and pushing her tongue into Beau before coming to circle her clit. Beau’s working just _below_ hers, making her squirm on the bed, hips arching upwards. She whines pointedly, and Beau swears, rubbing against her mouth. Beau gets the message—though, stops teasing her, gets her mouth on Jester’s clit, and tugs her thighs farther apart. 

Jester has to pause for a beat to try and see if anyone, Yasha, maybe, has circled around for a better look. She whines again, and Beau turns to kiss her thigh.

“Hey— stick with me,” Beau whispers and reaches back, palm up, fingers wiggling. 

Jester puts her hand in Beau’s, and her chest hurts. She squeezes it as she fixes her mouth between Beau’s thighs again. Beau sucks on her clit and licks, and Jester _tries_ to copy her, but she’s still sensitive from the last time, and she keeps having to draw back to whine and pant, her hips bucking under Beau’s mouth. She comes again like that, and Beau draws it out until her moans build to a shriek. 

Beau pauses in kissing Jester’s thighs. “Jes— do you—”

“Yeah! Hang on.” 

Jester gets her mouth on Beau again, and two fingers just barely inside her crooked the way she’s learned Beau likes. She knows the rhythm, too—that part isn’t upside-down. And it feels good to have Beau’s thighs quivering around her head, her breath tickling her skin with each sound she makes. Beau bites her cries off, lip between her teeth. Jester can picture the expression on her face as she tenses, quivers— 

Beau grinds down against Jester’s mouth with a strained whine that breaks into a sob and a moan as she comes apart, wet against Jester’s lips. A moment later, she rolls sideways and lands with her head on Jester’s thigh and her limbs in a tangle. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she sighs. “Yeah, that was a good one.” When she holds her hand up, Jester high-fives her.

Jester laughs and rolls onto her side. “I’m, like, _totally_ awesome at this. You, too. And you, Fjord!” 

“Thanks, Jessie.”

He sounds out of breath, and when she props herself up to look, she finds Fjord on Caduceus’ lap, clutching at his mohawk and his shoulder while Caduceus runs one big hand slowly up and down his spine in time with the slow roll of their hips. Yasha shuffles out of her trousers, and Beau lets out a whine, thighs pressing together. 

Jester reaches out to poke her in the side, her stomach doing little flip-flops. “Go! I’m okay over here.”

“Yeah, okay.” Beau pauses to bend and kiss her before she gets up. “Who’s next?”

“Me! Dibs! I’m calling dibs!” Nott wriggles off Caleb’s lap, his fingers sliding out of her with a wet, slick noise. “My turn. _If_ the lady wishes it, that is,” she adds, slyly, the pupils of her lamplight eyes blown wide with arousal as she approaches the bed.

Jester giggles, and makes a complicated sort of motion with her arm in a rough approximation of a bow. Or what a bow might look like if one were lying on their back on a bed, at least. “The lady _does_ wish,” she says, grinning. “How do you want me?”

“Hmmm.” Nott plants herself at the foot of the bed and surveys the scene before her—which, given her height, largely amounts to the tangle of Jester’s legs against the now _thoroughly_ rucked sheets. “...How adventurous are you feeling?”

Jester thinks for a moment, flopping back onto the bed. Her legs are shaking rather badly, and while that says delightful things about how thoroughly she’s been fucked so far, it does make staying propped up somewhat tricky. “Oh, you know,” she says, eventually. “I _am_ pretty adventurous, like, _all the time_ , so…”

“Oh, good,” says Nott, delightedly, scrambling up onto the bed to kneel at Jester’s feet. “Let’s try something _weird_ , then.”

Somewhere in the background, Caleb makes a soft and deeply concerned noise. Both women ignore him.

It takes a bit of wiggling to get Jester positioned as Nott wants her—with a pillow beneath her hips, and another beneath her head so she can watch Nott work, legs drawn up and spread open to bare herself to Nott’s hungry gaze where the goblin’s settled between her knees. She shivers, the air cold against her skin where she’s wet from Beau and Fjord’s tongues and her own arousal, and wrestles briefly with the urge to draw her legs closed. She feels _exposed_ like this, in a way she hadn’t with Fjord’s fingers and Beau’s head between her thighs.

Not that exposed is a bad thing, necessarily. The way Nott’s looking at her, eyes wide and lips parted, ears perked up into the air like the only do when she’s on high alert, is rather gratifying.

The chill is quickly soothed by Nott’s warm fingers sliding into her, three at once since they’re small, and Jester’s already wet and open. She groans, spreading her legs a little wider, canting her head up from the pillow to watch. Nott’s face is pinched with concentration, focused on her task. Then the rough pad of Nott’s thumb finds her clit, and Jester lets out a moan. Her head falls back, and her hips rise, meeting the steady rock and thrust of Nott’s hand. It makes wet sounds, wet like the rhythm of Caduceus’ fingers on Fjord’s cock, and her stomach clenches. 

“I cut my claws for you, you know,” says Nott, conversationally, thumb flicking sharply over Jester’s clit, grinning at the high noise of surprise it draws from her and the way she relaxes another fraction around Nott’s fingers. 

Nott slips another in, keeping her thumb working over Jester’s clit, tucking her pinky against the other three and sliding them back in up to the knuckles.

“I’m— oh, oh, _Nott_ — I’m flattered,” manages Jester, breathlessly. Nott’s four fingers deep in her, and she’s still rocking her hips in slow rolls as Nott fucks her gentle and steady. “That’s very sweet of you! Very— _considerate_ —”

“Mmhm,” agrees Nott, absently, ears flattened back against her skull with concentration as she eases her fingers most of the way out, and tucks her thumb against her palm.

It’s easier with Jester being human-sized and Nott hand goblin-sized, and with Jester being wet and relaxed from her previous orgasms, but even so… Nott shivers, digs sharp teeth into her leathery lower lip as her fingers disappear slowly, slowly into Jester’s cunt. Her other hand has vanished from sight, dipped between her own legs to touch herself, the ache there too visceral to ignore.

Jester would be watching, entranced, but the distraction of a hand sliding slowly inside of her has her eyes rolling up into her head. She quivers, tries to clench around the stretch of it, too hot and just a little too much. It aches, deep and full, and she whines softly, mouth slack with the effort of staying relaxed and open for Nott’s hand.

Nott leans down to lick around her fingers until Jester gives just a little bit more, opening up for her between the press of her tongue and the slow rocking of her hand. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks as she _gives,_ opens for Nott, and lets her slip inside up to the wrist. It’s a fullness of a kind she’s never felt before, and she moans helplessly at the sensation, spread wide and held open around the wedge of the hand inside her.

Her moans build to an open-mouthed cry as Nott laps at her clit and begins to fuck her, shallow and careful, rocking her hand back and forth inside Jester. She’s careful not to pull out, not to force Jester to stretch around the width of her knuckles again, but it’s still enough to make Jester _writhe._

Jester barely has time to adjust before Nott begins moving a little harder, a little faster. Jester’s legs tremble. She’s wet all over her thighs, now, dripping down Nott’s fingers. The pleasure builds to an ache while she gasps and gasps and loses her air on cries because she has Nott’s _hand_ in her and Nott’s _mouth_ on her and it’s _so_ much— 

Jester _wails_ , toes curling, tail lashing the sheets as she comes over Nott’s fingers in hot, shuddering waves.

Nott fucks Jester through it, careful and shallow and steady, fingers working furiously between her own legs. She looks dazed as she slips her hand out of Jester’s cunt, half-way to orgasm herself, and Jester can’t help but pull her up for a kiss. It’s a foreign sort of sensation, leathery lips and needle-sharp teeth, but not at all unpleasant. Nott’s a good kisser, teeth or no teeth, and the taste of herself in the goblin’s mouth is comfortingly familiar.

“Do you want me to…?” asks Jester, gesturing to where Nott’s hips are rolling slowly, grinding herself against Jester’s stomach. “I can help with that, if you want.”

“No,” gasps Nott, voice rasping and strained, and she leans in to kiss Jester once more. It’s messier this time, more sharp teeth and less finesse, an edge of desperation that wasn’t there before. The motions of her hips grow stronger, faster, and she drops a hand between her legs. “No, I’m nearly— If I just—”

She comes with an animal sort of keening, her slick smeared across Jester’s skin and her ears pinned back against her skull. It sounds like a cat in heat, maybe, or foxes fighting, and it’s one of the most delightful sounds Jester’s ever heard. She shudders, once, a full-body sort of shake, and then leans forward to kiss Jester once more through the last of the aftershocks.

“That,” says Jester, when she pulls away, “was—” The word _beautiful_ rises on her tongue, and then dies. Nott wouldn’t appreciate that. “—very sweet, Nott! Your ears are _so cute,_ oh my _gosh_ , they like, did this little _thing_.” She provides a rough approximation with her hands, and giggles when Nott gives her a half-hearted hiss in return.

“You’re lucky I didn’t _bite_ you,” snaps Nott, indignant. The careful, toothless kiss she presses to Jester’s breast as she slides off the tiefling’s waist, wincing from the burn in her thighs, says otherwise. 

Jester giggles some more, and waves to Nott as she goes with a small fluttering of her fingers. “Right!” she declares, brightly, even as her thighs still tremble from her most recent orgasm. It’s near-painful for her to close her legs, now, with how sensitive she is. “Who’s next? I’m _waiting_.”

From his place on Caduceus’ lap, Fjord clears his throat. He struggles to rise, legs wobbling. “I’d— I know I had a turn.”

“But I think Jester would like to make you come, too,” Caduceus finishes, nudging the center of Fjord’s back. “Up you go.”

With Caduceus’ help, Fjord makes it the rest of the way to his feet. A flush runs from his hairline down his chest, and his breath comes ragged, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach. The wet from it has left marks on Caduceus, darkening the fine hair covering his stomach. She smiles at him before she looks back at Fjord. 

He approaches slowly, placing his feet with a care that makes her giggle. Jester holds out her arms when he gets close enough, and Fjord goes into them, rolling them both over. He kisses her hungrily, fingers in her hair, callused hands running down her sides, her legs. Her skin thrums. 

“Were you watching?” She whispers, nipping at his throat. 

“I was. You were—” he breaks off to bury his head in her shoulder and moan as her hand curls around his cock, “ _amazing_. Oh, fuck. How do you want me?”

Jester pauses. “I mean, you can try— I’m kind of _sensitive_ right now. My mouth, maybe?” But she wants to feel him against her chest. “Hold on. Where’d I put—?” 

She reaches out, and Caduceus holds out the jar of slick, already open. Jester sticks her fingers in it, and then reaches down between her legs. “Here.”

Her thighs are already _soaked_ , but she wipes the slick onto them before she reaches out and draws Fjord to her. He groans into her hair as his cock slides between her thighs. It just brushes against her, sending sparks up through her nerves that make her tense and moan, high and shaky. Then she clutches him closer, just in case Fjord thinks she wants him to stop. His hips move, slowly at first, and then more urgently. 

The rub of his cock against her goes from too much, too sharp, to just right, like warming cold fingers. Jester moans against Fjord’s ear, and he answers—wraps one arm around her waist, and thrusts between her thighs. He groans like he’s dying as he spills hot and wet against her skin. 

She pets his hair until his breathing slows, and then turns to kiss his temple. “Good?”

“ _Yes_.” He tips onto his back, eyes closed, and lets out another long groan. Then he looks over at her and smiles. “Let me clean you up?”

Jester spreads her thighs. 

Fjord goes very, very gently, tongue working up one thigh and then the other. If the taste bothers him, the oil-based slick and her come and his, he gives no sign of it. And he doesn’t _try_ to draw out her arousal, but he goes so slowly when he reaches her labia and her clit that there’s no helping it. She arches and clings to his hair. If he had ever intended to pull away without making her come, they’ve both forgotten it. She comes gently, in small, breathless waves. 

Fjord draws away, and Jester sits up, her heart still hammering. Her clit throbs. She presses her still-trembling thighs together as she looks over to her friends. 

Beau and Yasha kiss almost lazily, leaning against the wall with their legs slotted together. Caduceus reaches out for Fjord as he returns. But Nott climbs _off_ Caleb’s lap, still wobbly-kneed, and Jester perks up. 

“ _Caaaaay-leb_ ,” she calls, holding out a hand and wiggling her fingers. “Your turn.”

“ _Ja_ , okay.” He gets to his feet, kicking off his boots. He’s the only one wearing more than just underwear, and Jester pouts at him as he approaches.

“ _Cay-leb_ ,” she says, reprimanding, grasping at the hem of his shirt as soon as he’s within arms’ length. “You’re wearing too many clothes! Weren’t you enjoying the _show_?”

He smiles at her, a tiny twist of his lips that seems nonetheless to light the whole of his face up with fondness. “And spoil your fun?” he asks, the faintest hint of teasing in his voice as he allows her to tug at the waist of his trousers, too. “I thought— that you might want one present you got to unwrap.”

He has a point. She does _very_ much want to unwrap him.

She kisses him, nipping at his lower lip, and then teases her hands up under the hem of his shirt. With a bit of wiggling from the both of them, she manages to pull it over his head, drop it onto the floor, leaving him standing half-dressed and twitchy between her legs.

He has scars, like the rest of them, but unlike the rest, he flinches when she touches them—so she doesn’t. She makes for his belt, instead, and then reaches around to give his ass a good, firm squeeze when she decides he doesn’t look like he’s having enough _fun_. It makes him jolt, eyes wide and surprised in contrast to the aborted thrust of his hips towards her, and she laughs softly.

“This is supposed to be fun for _both_ of us, Caleb,” she reminds him, stroking her hands over the line of his waist before hooking fingers into the waistband of his pants. They slide down easily when she tugs, slipping to pool around his ankles with his underwear.

He stands before her, a rabbit in the headlights despite his obvious arousal, and she takes pity on him. When she tugs him down to the bed, he goes easily, willingly, and makes no move to stop her when she settles astride his lap. 

“Well?” she says, demanding and just a little bratty, when he rests hesitant hands onto her thighs, barely-there pressure she can hardly feel. There’s a reverent sort of look on his face as he drinks her in, the sight of her settled astride him, grinning and radiant with orgasm. “You can touch me, you know! That _is_ the point, after all.”

“ _Ja_ , I know,” he says, huffing out a breath, thumbs rubbing warm circles into the softness of her inner thighs. His touch is light, _so light_ , and the tease of it makes her _squirm_. She wants more, wants to feel him, pressed into her skin the way the others are now. “I— are you still, ah… sensitive? I do not want to—”

She rocks her hips against his, relishes the low groan it draws forth from him, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. His fingers tighten, briefly, and _there_ it is. That’s what she wants from him. She makes her eyes wide and innocent and smiles down at him as she does it again. “What _do_ you want, Caleb?”

“I—” He struggles for a moment, throat working. She can feel his thighs trembling beneath hers, struggling with the urge to rock up against her once again, grind his cock against the hot, wet heat of her cunt. “I want to make you feel good, Jester.” He says it like it’s blasphemy, like it’s a confession, like he can hardly stand putting words to his desires. His eyes close, shut tight, as though he honestly thinks she might reject him.

It breaks her heart almost as much as his confession delights her. “Oh, you should have _said_!” she says, brightly, catching his jaw with one hand and pressing her lips to his. 

It takes a little coaxing to open him up for her tongue, but when his lips part, he kisses her back with the same heat as the magical fire he keeps on a leash. She groans into his mouth, rolls her hips against his, and his fingers tighten again — and don’t loosen, this time, digging desperate bruises into her thighs as though to keep her there, with her mouth affixed to his.

Someone, somewhere, wolf-whistles. Jester barely hears it beyond the rushing in her ears.

When they pull apart, she’s panting, and Caleb is pink-cheeked, wide-eyed, lips kiss-wet and parted in a way that makes her want to push her fingers between them. So she does, groaning when his lips close around them, when he sucks obediently. 

“Lie back,” she tells him, as his cheeks hollow and his tongue traces the line where her claws meet fingertip. She pushes at his shoulder, gently, and he falls back against the pillows as though she had shoved him. His mouth slips off her fingers with a wet pop, and a string of shiny saliva down his chin. “Lie back, Caleb, and make me feel _good_.”

“As you wish,” he says, and _now_ he’s with her. She can hear it in the gravel of his voice, the rasp of it far more than it should be from just a kiss. His eyes track her face, the line of her neck, the swell of her breasts, as she adjusts herself on top of him.

When she sinks down onto him, slick-wet and wide open, taking him in one delicious slide, his mouth falls open. She’s panting, gasping out little nonsense noises high in the back of her throat, and he’s trembling like she’s shocked him.

The hands on her thighs flex, fingers drawing across her skin, and then climb to her waist. One climbs higher, briefly, to brush careful and reverent across the underneath of one heavy breast, before settling back again. “Can I—?” he asks, licking his lips, eyes on her mouth, his thighs shaking beneath her.

She shifts, settles herself more firmly on him with a whimper, and bites her lips. Nods. “ _Yes_.”

He’s delicate in this, too, gentle rolls of his hips up against her. Each thrust makes her gasp, makes him choke on a quiet cry, the hands on her hips clenching, digging pale marks into her skin. They move together, fumbling, unsteady, dizzy with pleasure and trying to find a rhythm.

When Jester finds the strength to lift herself up with trembling thighs and sink back down onto him— _then_ the rhythm comes together. Caleb cries out, unable to swallow it any longer. She grins, delighted by his noises, and tosses her hair out of her face so she can see the way his expression contorts with pleasure.

“Touch me,” she urges him, as she rides him, mouth open and gasping for breath. He won’t last much longer, she knows, and she won’t come from his cock in her alone—no matter how nice it is. “ _Touch_ me, Caleb.” She grabs one of his wrists, rhythm stuttering, and drags it down to where their bodies meet.

His touch is cautious, initially, so gentle she would want to _scream_ at him if she weren’t so distracted by the slick slide of his cock inside her. But he is a quick study, her clever wizard, and his fingers soon find what she likes. By the time his other hand slides up her side to thumb at one nipple, she’s whining, high and bright in the back of her throat on the edge of orgasm.

“ _Gott_ ,” he gasps, still staring at her face even as his fingers work near-frictionless over her clit, slippery with the proof of her arousal. “ _Gott_ , Jester—”

It’s his adoration that tips her over, seating herself on him and _wailing_ as her orgasm ripples over her, already verging on _too much_ and all the better because of it.

His hands find her waist again, hips thrusting up into her where she’s oversensitive and clenching, and he comes a half-minute after her. He’s quieter than her, eyes screwed shut and mouth open but soundless, and she can’t resist the urge to kiss him through it as she feels him fill her up in hot, wet pulses.

She lingers a few seconds longer before she summons up just enough coordination to lift herself off his dick. Then she collapses to the mattress beside him in a splay of limbs. Her tail curls around his calf, loose and affectionate. Beside her, he twitches, a soft, startled noise leaving him. It’s followed by a long, low groan. When she looks over, she finds him with an arm thrown across his face and a dopey half-smile on his lips. She presses the tip of one finger to the dimple in his cheek. 

“Mm?” Caleb raises his arm enough to blink at her, and the momentary resemblance to waking Frumpkin up from a nap has her bursting into delighted giggles, her forehead falling against his shoulder. “…Okay.” He huffs a laugh and reaches over to run his fingers through her hair. 

There’s some shifting and jangling over in the corner of the room, and then a breathless ‘ _holy shit_ ’ from Beau that _almost_ makes Jester raise her head. She lingers a moment longer, though, running her fingers up and down Caleb’s chest until he stops panting and the immediate afterglow has subsided. Then he pushes himself upright with a rough groan, raking a hand through his mussed hair. He staggers a little as he gets to his feet, and Caduceus reaches out to steady him and lead him away from the bed. 

Still catching her breath, Jester comes up onto her knees. Her hair sticks to the back of her neck, and she does what she can to fix it, flapping her other hand dramatically. The whole room is awash with sex and heat, and if everyone weren’t already naked, they’d have to get there quick. 

Yasha bends into Beau’s kiss, sword-callused hands gently tracing her hips as Beau fumbles with a buckle. It’s her harness, but Jester’s favorite toy strapped against the apex of her thighs. She clenches at the sight of it, long and thick, the multicolored glass slick already. Had Yasha done that herself, or had Beau? Or Nott? The glisten of slick on Nott fingers answers that question. 

Jester still throbs, her nerves singing. She ghosts a hand between her thighs and gasps as her fingers brush her clit. 

Yasha draws a slow breath, brushing her fingers down the length of the toy. “This is… a lot. Are you sure, Jester?”

“ _Totally_.” She moves onto her hands and knees and wriggles her hips. “C’mere.”

Someone—Caleb, maybe—lets out a choked laugh. 

Yasha pauses halfway to the bed. “Could you—”

There’s a collective shuffling as the men turn away, Caleb drawing Fjord in for slow kisses, Caduceus rubbing up against his thighs.

Then Yasha climbs onto the bed behind Jester and reaches out to run her hands over Jester’s hips, her ass. “You’re very beautiful.” Jester moans as her fingers dip between her thighs and spread her open. The cool glass bumps her clit, drags against her, just barely teases inside. “I’m going to fuck you now, okay?”

“Okay,” Jester arches her back, “ _So_ okay.” And then, “Oh _fuck…_ ” as Yasha rolls her hips forward. 

A little at a time, Yasha pushes the toy inside her. Jester’s so wet she thinks she could just take it, but the tease is good, the slow press and the weight of the glass inside her. Her mouth hangs open as she gasps and _gasps,_ and her fingers curl tight in the sheets. She rocks her hips back. Yasha thrusts against her slowly, deliberately. She keeps stroking Jester’s hips, her stomach, her thighs, until Jester relaxes with a breathless moan, going down onto her forearms. 

“ _Fuck me_ ,” she urges. Her tail arches high, brushing against Yasha’s breasts before draping over her shoulder. “Don’t hold back.”

Yasha lets out a shuddering breath, her hips stuttering as she pushes forward again. For a moment, it seems she’s going to protest. But the next thrust is harder, wet and easy, but _deep_. The pleasure of it shocks through Jester. A cry spills from her lips, and she squeezes her eyes shut. Another thrust, and another, each making her moan and pant, each making her clench and her thighs tremble. 

“ _Yasha—_ ” she keens, her head dropping forward. 

Bending forward, Yasha kisses Jester’s shoulder, her back, lips so, so soft even as her thrusts get faster, harder. The wet sound of it fills the room, but Jester hears only Yasha’s ragged breaths, her soft moans as her hips work. She shows no sign of slowing, either, even as her fingers wander down to ghost over Jester’s clit. Jester cries out, tenses and squirms under the touch. 

“No?” Yasha asks, lips brushing her ear.

“Yes,” Jester urges, “yes, _yes_ —”

She screams into her forearms as another climax crashes through her, drags at her and leaves her shaking. Yasha holds her steady, waits for the tremors to ease, and then slowly pulls out. Another whine breaks from Jester at the friction against her nerves, and she crumples to the mattress, laughing. 

Yasha sinks back onto her knees. With unsteady hands, she unbuckles the harness and pulls it aside. The dark curls between her thighs are wet, and Jester licks her lips. Then she pushes herself half-upright and reaches out.

“May I?”

At Yasha’s nod, Jester slips fingers down, slips two into her, fits her thumb to Yasha’s clit. She has to resettle as Yasha shuffles closer and bends over her. Their kisses are barely more than the brush of mouths and Yasha’s soft gasps as Jester’s fingers work against her. 

The mattress dips as Beau joins them. She cups Yasha’s breasts and thumbs her nipples, nipping at her neck and the shell of her ear. Her gaze finds Jester’s, and there’s a softness to it that makes her breath catch. Between them, Yasha shudders and tenses, thighs flexing. Again, her mouth drops to Jester’s shoulder. She muffles her moans there as she comes in long, shuddering waves, wet over Jester’s fingers. 

Yasha doesn’t linger long afterward, but she bends and kisses Jester sweetly and softly on the lips before she lets Beau lead her away. Caduceus gives up his chair for them with a smile and a low, rumbling laugh. 

“Hi.” Jester wiggles her fingers at him. 

“Hey.” Caduceus sits beside her. “My turn, then?”

“Uh-huh.” He’s very hard, and there is a _lot_ of him, but it doesn’t seem like he’s in a hurry to do anything about it, his hands resting comfortably on his thighs. “…Do you _want_ a turn?”

“I’d like one, if you’re okay. It’s been a lot, hasn’t it?” But he still reaches out, rubs a hand over her hip, his thumb stretching almost to the wet curls between her legs. 

“Yeah,” she murmurs and then moans as he leans in to kiss her. It’s a little awkward at first, with the shape of his mouth, but she melts into him after a moment. “It’s good, though.”

Jester pets at his hair as he draws her down and rolls onto his back. It’s soft under her hands. His whole body is soft, except for where his ribs are still too prominent. He strokes her sides, the curve of her stomach, her breasts, and she runs her hands over his chest. When she gets a hand on his cock, he moans, the sound rumbling up through her. His skin is soft. She squeezes, and he groans again. He’s thicker and longer than the toy Yasha had used on her. Thicker than Nott’s whole _hand_. 

Fjord holds out the jar again, and Jester slicks her fingers before drawing them up and down Caduceus’ cock. He steadies her as she lifts herself enough to ease the head inside her, his other hand rising to the back of her neck. Gently, slowly, he draws her down. 

Jester loses all the breath in her lungs. He stretches her, pushes _deep_ until she thinks she cannot take any more of him. He could _give_ more, though, and she wriggles against him with a low whine. 

“That’s nice,” Caduceus sighs. “You take your time.”

Jester starts rocking her hips. She can’t go fast, can’t bounce—couldn’t even if she weren’t tired, if her legs weren’t jelly. It doesn’t matter with Caduceus warm under her, hot inside her. She braces her hands on his chest as she moves, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Caduceus lies back, barely rocking his hips as he groans, humming low and contented. One hand slides up and down her back, fingers splayed wide. The other curls over her thigh, thumb dipping between her legs. His thumb brushes Jester’s clit, and she _shrieks_ , her hips jerking as she clenches on his length. 

“Jester?”

She nods, hiccuping, gasping. 

Caduceus rubs where she’s stretched around his cock while she rocks slowly on top of him. Her clit throbs, and she _keens_ again as he touches it almost curiously. Back and forth, back and forth as she rocks against him. Her thighs tremble as much from exhaustion as from pleasure. A cry breaks from her, her face contorting, and her back arches. There’s a knot in her chest, dragging at her, hot and aching.

“I— I—” Jester whimpers. She’s close, she’s _so close_ , but she’s so sensitive it hurts, and she _needs_ to come. 

Thumb still against her clit, Caduceus hums. “One more, come on… just one more—that’s it, there you go… that’s _nice_ …”

Jester slumps against his chest, shaking and moaning her way through her orgasm. Her toes curl so hard her calves nearly cramp. It rolls through her in wave after wave after _wave_. Everything comes unravelled, all the tension rushing out of her. 

With another moan, she subsides. Then she drags in a breath, hiccups, and sniffs.

Caduceus goes still under her with a soft, concerned sound. It rumbles up from his chest to hers. When he starts to move her away, Jester clings to him, wrapping her tail around one of his legs. 

“No, no.” She rubs her cheek against his shoulder. “It's good tears, it's okay, please, I want to feel you come—"

“Oh.” He rocks up against her so _gently_ , “Just a little longer, then…”

She stifles her gasps against his shoulder, clings to his neck, and holds on while he grinds up against her, the full length of his cock still buried inside her. When his hips start to stutter, she sobs again and laughs. Her thighs tighten against his hips. 

Caduceus comes with a long groan, spilling hot and deep inside her. She stays on top of him afterward. Her limbs are too weak, too shaky, and she likes how it feels to have him slowly softening inside her. And he seems happy to stay there, too, gently rubbing her back. 

Around them, the others start moving again. She’s not sure when they stopped, or why. Beau gets to her feet, groaning as she stretches, and Nott scampers off to retrieve her clothes. Yasha comes back from the bathroom with her shirt on and her skin still damp. Caleb is in the chair, and Fjord lies on the floor, limbs outstretched, a blissful smile on his face. 

They _all_ look happy.

Jester wipes her eyes again and then holds Caduceus a little tighter. 

“You did a _lot_ ,” Caduceus murmurs. “Come on. Up you get.” She gasps as he slips out of her and laughs as he gathers her into his arms. “Let’s get you a bath. Then we can all get some rest.”

“Pillow fort,” Jester mumbles.

“Mm?”

“I want a pillow fort. Or… all of us together. Like that time in— just all of us together.” 

“We can do that. Guys?”

Fjord shoves himself to his feet. “Yeah, we’re on it.”

The bath is warm, and the soap smells like honey and spice. Jester almost falls asleep in it, from the warmth and the gentle pass of Caduceus’ hands, but she manages to walk back to the room on her own. 

Her friends pulled the mattress from the bed and shoved the frame to the wall while she bathed. Pillows and bedrolls surround it. 

Jester almost starts crying again. A smile spreads across her face, and she wobbles her way to the mattress. Beau’s the one to help her into her regular nightgown, the warm one. They curl up together while Caleb extinguishes the lamps. The others join them, Fjord on Jester’s other side, Caleb and Nott curling up together at the end of the bed, Yasha near Beau, Caduceus stretching out with just his head on the edge of the mattress. 

“How are you feeling?” Beau whispers.

“Good.” Jester cuddles back against her. “Really good. Beau? Thank you _so much_. And Fjord, and—”

“Hey.” Beau cuts her off. “This wasn’t a favor.” 

“Still.”

Beau sighs and kisses the back of Jester’s shoulder. “I’m glad we could make you feel good. You deserve it, you know?”

Jester nods, because she believes it, and because she loves these people. She tries to stay awake, to listen to them falling asleep, but exhaustion and Caduceus’ steady snoring drags at her eyelids. She lets herself drift off, surrounded by warmth and safety and steady breaths.

**Author's Note:**

> The authors thrive on comments 💜🖤💜


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